The Trouble With Contact Lenses REPOSTED
by kathrynw221291
Summary: Arthur/Eames. Arthur has some trouble with his contact lenses and Eames offers his assistance.  Banter, that turns into smut, which then turns into fluffyness. RATED M FOR THE SMUTTYNESS AND THE EJACULATION OF MR EAMES


**Arthur/Eames. Arthur has some trouble with his contact lenses and Eames offers his assistance. Banter, that turns into smut, which then turns into fluffyness. RATED M FOR THE SMUTTYNESS AND THE EJACULATION OF MR EAMES **

**THE TROUBLE WITH CONTACT LENSES**

**Inception belongs to the awesome Christopher Nolan and not me…if it belonged to me the subtle slash between Arthur and Eames would be MUCH LESS SUBTLE lol**

**Just some Arthur/Eames banter which progresses to smut and then fluffy cuteness.**

**Slash boy/boy stuff; so no homophobia or any of that shiz because that is not cool. Don't like it then don't read it. Simple as that.**

**This is my first inception fanfic so hopefully it's not too crappy. **

THIS IS A REPOST AS THE OTHER ONE WAS RIDDLED WITH DISCREPANCIES AND MISTAKES…HOPEFULLY IT IS BETTER NOW

Arthur awoke early, stretching his arms and loosening the crick in his shoulders. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and heard a loud snapping noise. He stared blearily at the ground between his feet and saw his glasses, even with his bad eyesight he could see the left lens was cracked. He cursed under his breath and picked up the broken artefact, frowning down at them. He _was_ planning on lounging around that morning, he rarely had a morning free to himself with all the work he always seemed to be doing. But now he had to get up and get himself to the opticians to get himself some new glasses, or perhaps contact lenses would be a better idea.

So he got up, showered and dressed in a grey pinstriped suit and walked out of his apartment and into the street.

It was barely 6:00am and the street was basked in dawn sunlight, and the sky was still slightly dark. Nevertheless, he walked into the opticians, his broken glasses balanced precariously on his nose. When the optician looked at him she smiled sympathetically at the broken glass. Within half an hour he had been given contact lenses in a small box and was walking out of the shop. So he placed his broken glasses back on his nose and made his way to work.

Once he arrived at the warehouse he found his way to the desk, trying to look through and past the cracked glass. He placed the contact lenses on the desk and placed his broken glasses in the desk drawer, fumbling with the small semi-circular lenses.

Damn! if only his eyesight wasn't so crappy he wouldn't have to put up with all of this trouble.

"Oh fuck! Bloody contact lens!" Arthur cursed, as he blindly searched the area around his desk. As he couldn't see due to his awful eyesight, his head collided with the desk corner. He clung to the wounded area as blood trickled down over his eyebrow and onto his cheek.

The rest of the team, excluding Eames, had not arrived yet; this left Arthur to suffer alone. That is, of course, until Eames noticed what was going on and swaggered over, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Arthur, what the fuck is going on here? Why is your head bleeding? And why are you crawling around on the floor?" The older man asked, his words laced with his British lilt. He was staring at Arthur with his head tilted to one side and a sandy-coloured eyebrow raised.

Arthur could only see the vague blurry outline of his colleague as the questions buzzed in his mind. He was frustrated, essentially blind and his head was throbbing painfully. He didn't really have time for any of Eames' crap right at that moment.

"I dropped my contact lens and I'm trying to find it. But I can't see without it; meaning that I can't find it." Arthur responded, bringing his knees up from under him to sit awkwardly on the hard stone floor, resigned to defeat and near-blindness for the rest of the day.

"Well, why don't you shift yourself and let me find it? I can _actually_ _see_ so that makes more sense, doesn't it, Love? And you might want to treat that cut on your head; I don't want you passing out on me, now do I?" Eames suggested, a chuckle falling from his lips as he stared at the dejected Arthur sat on the ground looking like a lost child in a supermarket.

"Thank you, Eames. I would appreciate that." Arthur said, somewhat surprised by the forger's kindly suggestion. He normally wasn't so nice or thoughtful. This worried Arthur slightly. Was he going to have to fulfil some horrific obligation because of Eames' favour to him? He pushed these worries aside though, and decided to sit at his desk and just be thankful for the pleasant treatment. Also his head was hurting quite a bit. Arthur plucked some tissues from a dispenser which Eames has placed in front of him, closed his eyes and leant his head back, enjoying the silence. He pressed the tissues to his bleeding head and hoped the forger would find his contact lens soon.

Arthur could hear Eames crawling around on the floor near him, muttering under his breath indistinguishable words. Then, after a few minutes, he heard him exclaim happily and listened as the material of his suit trousers rustled and scratched along the floor. He opened his eyes to see the forger throwing a shadow over his face. He saw a tanned, calloused hand open palm up in front of him, and a small semi-circle rested in the centre.

"No Eames, don't you dare try and put it in for me! I will do it please do not- Arthur's hands, as he was waving them in protest, had come into contact with a part of Eames' anatomy that he never thought he would find himself touching.

"Whoa! Arthur love, all I did was find your contact lens, there's no need to thank me so vigorously. A verbal 'thank you' would be acceptable." Eames responded laughing heartily as Arthur's face contorted in shock and a heavy blush rose up his elegant cheekbones.

"Fuck! Did I just touch your…uh…fuck! Sorry. I can't see what I'm doing. Completely unintentional. Eames…I…uh. Thank you. Let's just forget that ever…fuck!" The point man cursed and stuttered, attempting to move his chair away from the forger, who was still chuckling slightly.

Before Arthur could do anything though, Eames had reached forward, bathed the contact lens in the little vial of solution that sat open on the desk, and delicately inserted said contact lens into Arthur's eye. Then he took the other one and repeated the process with the other eye.

For a moment Arthur blinked rapidly and waited for the world to come into focus. It did so quickly, and he snapped his eyes open to see Eames staring at him, his face was very close, and his full lips, and green eyes and just-the-right-amount of stubble and strong jaw line were all inches away.

"All good? Can you see everything alright now? No more crashing into tables or anything?" Eames asked, waving his hand in front of Arthur's blushing face in emphasis.

Why was Arthur blushing? Well, if someone who you may or may not have a crush on was centimetres away from your face then you might be blushing too.

Also he had had a dream similar to this not long ago. On one of the nights where he actually managed to sleep; which were few and far between nowadays.

In the dream Eames had leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth, his full lips sucking and enveloping, his perfect teeth biting and pulling at Arthur's swollen bottom lip. Then Eames had applied those heavenly lips to less innocent parts of his body for the entirety of the dream. He had woken up rather more hard than he normally did. Shaken slightly by his odd choice of dream topic, Arthur then decided that his subconscious was hinting that maybe, just maybe he felt more than vague companionship for the forger.

"Yes Eames. I can see perfectly well now." Arthur answered, placing the vial into his briefcase pocket and turned to face the laptop screen before him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eames nod, smile and walk away to his own desk.

The point man let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

"Cobb and Ariadne will be in soon."

Eames attempted to make conversation, mainly to distract from the awkward moment, and to cut the tension that was hanging inexplicably in the air.

"Yes, they will. I will have to make my actions quick then." Arthur replied, standing from his desk and walking over to stand beside Eames.

"Huh? What actions are you going on about?" The forger responded, he looked up at the point man and tried to read his odd facial expression.

"These actions." Arthur simply said, before spinning Eames' desk chair towards him, grasping the back of the older man's tanned neck and kissing him hard.

He felt the forger start, his eyes widened in shock, but he persisted with his ministrations. Eventually he melted into the kiss and allowed Arthur's tongue entrance between his warm lips.

"Well, fuck! Arthur, I really wasn't expecting that, and from you of all people. "

Arthur stood over him blushing slightly at the rigorous activity he had just partaken in.

"I am not finished yet, Mr Eames." The point man then splayed his colleague's knees apart and knelt between them.

Eames' mouth fell open and his eyes closed as Arthur's nimble fingers undid his fly and began to yank the fabric open. They then pulled at the waistband of his boxers and reveal his hard, aching cock to the cold warehouse air. He hissed and his breath hitched as Arthur placed his warm mouth around the tip and began to lick the slit.

Eames was moaning and arching his back as the point man proceeded to bob his head up and down the cock, his teeth grazing the base as he swallowed the head down his tight throat.

Then he removed his mouth completely, gaining a disdainful grunt from Eames Arthur just smirked, something that looked odd on his usually-stoic face. He spread Eames' knees just a little further and made himself comfortable on his knees, before licking a long stripe from the base of the aching member right to the tip, and circling with his tongue. He placed light kisses all along the shaft then, receiving a moan from the forger.

"Arthur! Jesus, just suck it, will you? This slow stuff is driving me insane!" Eames whined, his hips automatically thrusted upwards towards Arthur's warm lips. Arthur moved away slightly, his eyebrow raised in question and slight credulity. Eames had the decency to blush and looked apologetic. Arthur shrugged and quickly swallowed the forger's cock completely, feeling the pre-cum on the tip sting the back of his throat, but he continued regardless.

Then Eames was tensing and his balls were tightening. He looked down at Arthur as to try to warn him of the imminent orgasm that was pooling in his stomach,

But he found that his mouth was too dry and no words were coming out. Arthur however seemed to read his mind, or his body, and hummed in response; somehow telling Eames that he could handle it.

The humming served to send Eames over the edge and he felt the liquid burst in Arthur's throat as the point man milked him for all he was worth. Then the warmth was gone and he looked down to see Arthur licking the creamy liquid from his lips and standing to rearrange his crinkled waistcoat and shirt. Eames eyes were half lidded and there were still stars behind his eyelids, as the remnants or orgasm left him feeling like his insides had melted into jelly and his legs would not support him. Thank God he was already sitting down or he would have ended up in an undignified quivering heap on the warehouse floor.

"Thank you, Mr Eames, for your help with my missing contact lens. I am _very_ grateful for your help. I would also like to repeat this arrangement in the future. Would you be averse to such actions?"

Arthur responded, as if he and the forger had just had something so innocent as a cup of tea.

"Wow! I've never heard such formal dirty talk in my life Arthur. And hell no! I would not be "averse to such actions". Who knew you were so good at giving head? I'd love to repeat this as much as you like. Hey? Maybe I could even pay you back as well, I've got many a skill hidden up my sleeve, as you will soon find out."

The forger managed, his incredulity not failing to show through his words. He winked at Arthur and proceeds to zip his fly and blow Arthur a kiss.

"Cobb and Ariadne are going to be here soon, I suggest we get back to work, don't you Mr Eames?"

Arthur said, his voice carried a certain seductive element that Eames had never heard him speak with before.

Eames smirked and Arthur licked his lips again, causing the forger to blush and choke on the sip of coffee he had just taken. The feeling of triumph settled happily in Arthur's chest as he stared at the flustered and blushing Eames. He winked at him and then turned back to his laptop screen.

He heard Eames mutter the words "Fuck me!" under his breath. For a moment a wicked thought crossed his mind, asking whether that is an exclamation or a question. He knew that it was the first, but his libido wanted it to be the second. For once something actually over-powered reason and logic in his brain. Who knew that his libido would be the thing to overtake his intelligent thought?

Cobb walked into the warehouse chattering wildly to Ariadne about designs and architecture and other such work-related topics. This silenced the point man and forger, although neither of them could stop the contented smiles that tugged at their lips for the rest of the day.

As Eames walked over to Arthur's desk when the bell rang for lunch, he asked if he wanted to visit a nice café which sold the best pizza Eames had ever tasted. Arthur agreed heartily, much to Eames' surprise. He had thought that Arthur might turn down the greasy comfort food in favour of something much more refined. But Eames wasn't complaining.

"Oh and Arthur love, do you know what we are going to do first thing tomorrow?"

Eames asked him playfully, as he wrapped his arm around Arthur's waist and lead him out of the door and down the staircase.

"What is that, Daniel?"

Arthur asked curiously, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at his colleague.

"Go to the opticians and get you a good pair of glasses; those contact lenses are a pain in the ass, and are more trouble than they're worth. Besides I think you would look cute with a pair of thick-framed specs."

Eames joked, smiling wryly.

He was just waiting for the forger's sentence to be finished with "they would look better on my bedroom floor." Hell he doesn't need to finish it. They will probably be there pretty soon anyway. Along with Arthur's pin striped suit; and for once the point man won't care that it wasn't folded perfectly.

**Hope this is ok. **

**I didn't know what Eames' first name was so I decided on Daniel because I had seen that used in a couple other fics and I think it suits him.**

**Hopefully I got the Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon Levitt images correct – I think Tom Hardy's eyes are green (or at least a greenish blue) **

**Much love, Kat x **


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